


Letters Never Sent

by walkandtalk



Series: A Gentleman and a Scholar [2]
Category: Daddy-Long-Legs - Jean Webster, Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cardassia, Cardassian Anatomy, Cardassian Culture, Cardassians, Courting Rituals, Courtship, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Gloves, Jealousy, Lonely Elim Garak, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Julian Bashir, POV Elim Garak, Pining, Pining Elim Garak, Romance, Romance with Fabric, Secret Identity, Slow Burn, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:36:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27445759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkandtalk/pseuds/walkandtalk
Summary: Garak is a jealous fool who falls in love with one of his pet projects.Garak's point of view during A Gentleman and a Scholar.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Series: A Gentleman and a Scholar [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2005183
Comments: 30
Kudos: 83





	Letters Never Sent

**Author's Note:**

> This is where all the little snippets, chapters, and excerpts that are from Garak's point of view will be. I'll make sure to note with a hyperlink what chapter they belong to if you'd like to reread or enjoy them side by side.
> 
> There are spoilers, obviously.
> 
> And possibly this will get a bit more than G-rated.

**Set before A Gentleman and a Scholar**

Garak slunk deep into his favorite chair, wrapped in a warm woolen robe. He looked blearily at the glass in his hand and wondered how it had become so empty.

He flipped through fashion vids from Kegfit VI, the flashy silhouettes and fabrics boring him tonight, then the Cardassian propaganda channel, and finally settled in for the intergalactic news.

Depressing enough.

“To you, Tain,” he said, toasting the nothing around him in his little apartment above his shop, the only thing he could publicly call his own, and downed another couple of fingers of kanar. Two years after his untimely, but welcome, death, Garak hadn’t quite figured out the best way to mourn him, but the vintage was serviceable and the evening was his own. “May you rot where the Stars never shine.”

With that benediction, he stared at the screen, eventually truly paying attention when it turned to a story about a father. One Richard Bashir, father to a disgraced Starfleet Medical student, charged with first-degree genetic engineering, along with his wife.

“Fathers,” he said sadly. “Always a disappointment.” Something about the story struck him as incredibly unjust. His own father had engineered Garak’s life, and look at him now: middle-aged, alone, and not much to show for it.

“We don’t deserve it. Damn shame,” he muttered. “Circumstances of our birth. And our fathers.”

He thought about pouring himself another glass, but something niggled him. He brought up the entire article about the Bashir family and wondered if he needed another project more than he needed another glass of kanar.

\--

Garak had developed a nine-point plan that he was quite proud of. Steps one through six took less than three days: he had arranged for an encrypted and untraceable comm link and directed all inquiries and information that would then be routed to him, in order to communicate with a Julian S. Bashir of Earth. Upon viewing his impressive college records and personnel file, all it took was several bribes and some strategically misplaced paperwork, Mister Bashir was free to leave the Federation and relocate.

Step seven was surprisingly simple to convince the young man to leave everything he knew and come to Cardassia, by way of an anonymous benefactor offering a scholarship for "Intraquadrant Cooperation." Garak arranged for the tuition and student visa.

Step eight, arrange for automated deposits into the account for Mister Bashir's room and board and incidentals. No need to have the man bothering him monthly with requests.

Step nine, after graduation, he'd check up on Mister Bashir, see what he'd make of himself. Perhaps he'd go into podiatry. He thought Mila had a distant cousin who did that.

Congratulating himself on time and money well spent, he treated himself to another cup of tea at lunch. All in all, he'd hardly made a dent in his inheritance, and in three short years, he'd add a doctor to his menagerie of unusual pet projects.


End file.
